Points of Authority
by Atarashii
Summary: A somewhat indepth look on what -really- happens behind the scenes.
1. Stage One

**Title**: Points of Authority  
**Author**: Atarashii [chibikits(at)livejournal(dot)com]  
**Series**: Fire Emblem  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: Humor  
  
**Disclaimer**: Fire Emblem and all its associated characters do not, and never will, belong to me. The plot to this fic, however, does.   
  
**Author Notes**: This is a kind of 'behind the scenes' fic, incorporating the idea that when working on fanfiction, the RnK cast is thrown into a movie-like setting. Light making fun of all different kinds of fanfics within the FE section of ff.net, although in the end it's all in good ol' fun.

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**Points of Authority  
Stage One**

-----------------------------  
  
A figure trudged into the decent-sized room, falling into one of the chairs situated around the table. He didn't even bother looking up, choosing to just let his head hit the surface.   
  
"I . . . hate . . . my . . . job."   
  
One of the others looked up, "Don't we all, Nils?"   
  
Muffled reply, before he lifted his head, "Where's Ninian?"   
  
"Mm." Casting the half-dragon a somewhat amused smile, some cards were tossed in his direction, "Set 1."   
  
Gathering the cards together, Nils set on idly rearranging his hand, "_Again_? I swear, one would think that these so-called authors would get tired of doing the same old thing, _time and time_ again."   
  
Hector shrugged, "Hard to break out of routine." He paused, looking amused, "Wouldn't you agree, Lyn?"   
  
The Sacaen scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Understatement. Seriously, I'm so _sick_ and _tired_ of all these damned idiots who put themselves into their own writings just so they can feel me up!"   
  
Eyebrow twitching at that, "I swear, the next one who thinks that they can lay their filthy hands on _my_ Florina . . ."   
  
"Now, now, Lord Hector. You know that there's nothing we can do." Nils huffed, blowing bangs from his eyes, "If there was, then I would've long since disposed of all the idiots who continue to make me act like a . . ."   
  
Door to the room opening, a new voice interjected, "Seven-year-old on a sugar high?"   
  
"Ah, Kent!" Pushing away from the table, Hector glanced over his shoulder towards the knight, "Where've you been?"   
  
". . . Set 6." Shaking his head, Kent began working on undoing his armor, allowing the pieces to clatter to the ground in a pile.   
  
"_Again_?" Lyn offered the other a bemused smile, patting the empty chair beside her, "It seems as if you've been working on a lot more yaoi fics as of late."   
  
"_Tell_ me about it!" Moving towards the offered chair, he froze as the PA system blared to life.   
  
"Lord Hector, your assistance is needed on Set 6. Paging Lord Hector to Set 6."   
  
"Blast it!" Rising up, Hector threw his cards onto the table, "It just better not be with _Matthew_ again."   
  
"Mm. Looks like you're out of luck." Kent had settled down, an all-too-familiar clipboard within his hands, "Heh." He flipped through the pages of the list of different fanfics scheduled for the day, "Looks like this one's in regards to how Hector, in the heat of battle, falls for his 'servant' and fellow Ostian, Matthew."   
  
"Oh, for the love of . . . !" Rolling his eyes, the Ostian began wandering about the room, "The originality of the plot just _slays_ me . . . where the hell is my armor, and that blasted Wolf Beil?"   
  
Looking at one another, the other three looked back to the other lord, watching in unspoken amusement as he dug through piles and boxes of various weapons, and clothing of all different fabrics and types.   
  
"Nils, your assistance is needed on Set 3. Paging Nils to Set 3."   
  
". . . Did I mention I _hate_ this job?" Setting his own cards aside, Nils cleared his throat, before waving cheerfully and speaking once more, his voice quite a few pitchess higher than before, "Well, then! Off I go to screw up my reputation some more!" He giggled, "Might as well practice being _awful_ at my flute as well. See you!"   
  
Without another word, he dashed past Hector, and out the door.   
  
". . . He scares me when he does that." Grunting softly, and tugging the misplaced Wolf Beil from where it'd been tossed aside into a pile of lances and swords, Hector shook his head, "I _really_ wish the damned authors would _stay out_ of here."   
  
Sighing, "That would be asking too much of them." Kent looked over towards Lyn, "Got any fives?"   
  
"Nope. Go fish."   
  
". . . Have fun, you two." Muttering under his breath one last time, the tall Ostian left, the door slamming shut behind him.   
  
A comfortable atmosphere settled over the room, as Kent and Lyn continued their game of 'Go Fish', making small chitchat on the side.   
  
Of course, this didn't last long, for half an hour or so later, the door was slammed open, an imposing form striding in.   
  
Not an eye was bat as a curse was spoken, and a broadsword cast aside into a pile without a second glance.   
  
"Mm. Difficult times, Raven?"   
  
". . . I. Hate. This." Each word, ground out between gritted teeth, was spoken with a hint of malice behind each one.   
  
"Don't we all. Come on, Raven, get over here. We were planning on playing BS next."   
  
". . . They paired me up with _him_ again! _Him_!!"   
  
Lyn sweatdropped, "Er . . . 'him'?"   
  
"That damned archer. The one that speaks a mile a minute, and can't seem to ever _shut up_!"   
  
Kent blinked, "Oh. Wil." He shrugged, "Going to join us?"   
  
". . . Fine. Might as well."   
  
Of course, the PA system had other ideas.   
  
"Raven, your assistance is needed in Set 6. Paging Raven to Set 6."   
  
". . ." Breaking into a slew of curses, some of which neither Lyn and Kent had heard before, the redhead turned, and the room seemed to _shake_ as the door was shut in his wake.   
  
"Well, there goes _that_ game." Eyeing the cards fluttering back onto the table, the knight sighed, "I just hope for the sake of us all that it's not another RavenxWil fic."

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**End Notes**: Bleh. Next installment will include "peeks" into the different sets, along with some more "waiting room" activities. n.n; 


	2. Interlude One

**Title**: Points of Authority  
**Author**: Atarashii [chibikits(at)livejournal(dot)com]  
**Series**: Fire Emblem  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: Humor  
**Pairings**: RavenxLucius, RathxWil (implied)   
  
**Disclaimer**: Fire Emblem and all its associated characters do not, and never will, belong to me. The plot to this fic, however, does.   
  
**Author Notes**: For this chapter . . . perhaps it's better not to ask. Otherwise, this is just a little side spinoff thingiemajig, and can be taken as being seperate from the rest of the fic, if you want. Uh, and . . . I blame Rosa-sama for the idea of this part!   
  
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Points of Authority  
Interlude One   
  
-----------------------------   
  
With a small yawn, Serra entered the large, modern-looking building, showing her ID to one of the guards stationed at the front desk, before proceeding onwards into the room . . . then again, it was the _only_ room within this particular building.   
  
"'ornin'," She managed once within it, flopping down onto one of the large beanbag chairs situated within one of the corners.   
  
She didn't want to be here, and was just thankful that there was nothing scheduled for her until later . . . that could be attributed to the fact that the authors _knew_ that she, otherwise, would not be her 'usual' self.   
  
"Good morning!" Wil, ever the cheerful one, waved from where he was, a mug of tea held firmly within his hands, "You're here early . . . and here I figured that I was the only one. Well, I'm glad that I'm _not_ the only one, because otherwise it would be awfully boring, don't you think? All things considering, I hope that today goes well . . . and that no one attempts to pair me up with Sir Raven again, because I think if they do, that he's going to kill me."   
  
Shaking her head, turning and burrowing against the chair she remained curled up within, the pink-haired cleric attempted to ignore the other.   
  
"Wil, your assistance is needed in Set 7. Paging Wil to Set 7."   
  
Taking one last sip of his tea, and hopping from the chair onto his feet, "Well, then! Off I go. Good luck with your own scheduled items of the day, Serra!"   
  
Breaking into a cheerful whistle, Wil slipped silently through the room's door, leaving Serra completely alone.   
  
She sighed, reveling in the silence before shifting, and managing to fall asleep.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
"Sister Serra! Serra, get up!" Sighing, Priscilla nudged the other once more, "Serra, come _on_!"   
  
"Jussa few 'inutes more, mother . . ."   
  
"No, _now_!" Once more, the other was nudged, although this time was harder than before, "We're needed on Set 7!"   
  
"Wha . . . ?" Blinking, Serra's eyes finally opened, and she stared up, "Huh . . . ?" A yawn, "Mm . . . right . . . I'm up, I'm up."   
  
"About time."   
  
"Hey! I needed my sleep! Really now, I would think that they would learn that a beautiful girl like me needs her sleep . . . but _no_, they keep on insisting on keeping me up late to work on their things!"   
  
". . . Let's just get going, alright?"   
  
"Fine, fine." She stood up, stifling a yawn, "You know, you really need to lighten up!"   
  
"Sister Serra."   
  
"Fine, fine. Off we go then, to Set 7!" She paused, just as they were about to exit through the door, "Hm . . . that's the set Wil ran off to."   
  
-----------------------------   
  
For those just entering the set, things seemed normal. Different people of all different jobs could be seen running around, attempting to get things ready for that afternoon's shoot.   
  
The one thing that broke the normalacy of it all, though, was the scream.   
  
Both of the healers had halted when it had sounded, looking at one another, before nervously edging into the main area where all filming was done.   
  
They froze, staring at the sight that greeted them.   
  
"L . . . Lord Brother?!" Her voice was a soft squeak, and Priscilla had to clear her throat, looking away.   
  
"Oh. My. _Gosh_!!" Recovering ability to move faster than her companion, Serra bounded in.   
  
She was met with a couple of glares, while the others just turned, either flushed or embarrassed at their current situation.   
  
"So _this_ is what was going on today, hm?" Circling one of the males, she grinned up, "Well, Matthew, I never knew that you would look so great in a skirt!!" She giggled, before throwing her arms about his neck, "Now, if you had longer hair, and longer eyelashes, then I might have competition! Good thing that you don't, though!!"   
  
"Get . . . off." Looking somewhat more flustered at the female's compliments, Matthew attempted to peel her off him, mournfully adding, "I'd rather be in a hundred fics with Hector, than _this_."   
  
_This_ happened to refer to the fact that Matthew, along with all other guys in the room, were wearing sailor fukus.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
Raven was . . . well, there were actually quite a few words that could describe his current feelings, and all of them weren't pretty.   
  
Making the current situation worse was the fact that _Priscilla_ had to have come onto the set, seeing him like this.   
  
He resorted to glaring, ignoring Serra's babble to the thief nearby, crossing his arms against his chest. It wasn't that he didn't _like_ the clothing he'd been forced into wearing . . . alright, so he downright _hated_ it. But why, for the love of all things, did _his_ have to have _pink_ on it?!   
  
_Well_, he mused, stealing a look at the others, _At least I wasn't the one who got thrown into the 'lead' character's outfit_.   
  
For, the honour of wearing the fuku Sailormoon wore had been given to Eliwood . . . and the Pheraen lord seemed anything _but_ happy.   
  
"I can't believe this . . ." The other stated, looking quite mournfully down at his outfit, resisting the urge to twitch at the bright colours, "Whoever thought _this_ up is insane, truly." He sighed, one hand raising, making a small face as his hand brushed against the hairclip things within his hair, "Well . . ."   
  
"Cheer up!" Looking quite cheerful in his own, Sailoruranus-esque fuku, Wil shot the rest of the gathered a bright smile, "After all, this isn't _too_ bad!"   
  
". . . How the hell can you be so _happy_?"   
  
"Sir Raven!" Blinking towards him, Wil tilted his head, "The only thing real bad about these are the shoes." He looked down, seeming to not care that his pleated skirt showed long legs, "I'm so used to wearing boots, but I guess these work! I mean, after a while, I'm sure I'll get used to them!"   
  
". . ." Eyebrow twitching, Raven gave up on him, turning and reluctantly heading over to where his sister still stood, ". . . Priscilla."   
  
"I . . . Lord Brother . . ." Turning her head away, Priscilla coughed, "Well . . . I guess this proves that the authors do have no lives."   
  
". . . And here I thought that it would make more sense to have the _females_ to wear these." He looked around, eyes landing upon another's form, "But . . ." Small smile touched his lips, and he drew from Priscilla's side, heading over towards the blonde, "Lucius."   
  
"Ah, Lord Raymond!"   
  
". . . Lucius." He stifled a soft chuckle, leaning nearer against Lucius' form, "You . . . I must say, you're one of the few who actually looks good . . ." Trailing off, one hand rose, carressing the other's cheek lightly, "You look good in anything you wear."   
  
Blushing at his lover's comments, Lucius shifted upon his feet, "I . . . uhm . . . ah, Lord Raymond . . ."   
  
Devilish smirk crossing his face, Raven leaned even further in, staring steadily into the other's eyes, "Come, Lucius. I doubt we're needed for a while . . ."   
  
-----------------------------   
  
". . ."   
  
". . ."   
  
". . ."   
  
Hector looked from one, then to the other, refusing to be unnerved by the otherwise silence he was greeted with, "What? _What_?!"   
  
". . . Uh . . ." Eliwood paused.   
  
"Wow, Lord Hector! I can't believe they made _you_ wear one, too!" Breaking the unease in the atmosphere, Wil bounded over, circling the Sailormercury-clad lord.   
  
". . . I must agree with Wil . . ." Hastily, Matthew looked away.   
  
Eyebrow twitching, "Oh." The tallest of the group paused, "Well. It wasn't like I _asked_ to wear this blasted thing!" He shuddered, tugging at the short skirt, looking from one, then to the other.   
  
Silence, as the four men just studied one another, Serra and Priscilla having left some time ago to change into their own designated clothing.   
  
"Hm . . ." Nodding his head slowly, a somewhat devious smirk crossed Hector's face, "Well, I must say. Eliwood, you actually look quite _good_ in that outfit . . . as do you, Matthew. Wil."   
  
". . ."   
  
". . ."   
  
"Do you think Rath will like it?!" Shifting from one foot to the other, body thrumming with energy, Wil looked about, "I mean, sure, I've dressed up in female clothing before, for him, but . . . I still wonder if he'll like this!"   
  
". . . You . . . and Rath . . ." Matthew stared at the archer, "Well, er. Explains why you seem uncaring of the fact that you're wearing a bloody _skirt_."   
  
"Hm, I wonder if they're going to make us do those nifty attacks that the _real_ Sailorsenshi can do? Although, I guess that would be somewhat difficult . . . makes me wonder why they didn't have any of the magic users in these roles! I mean, I'm certain Lord Pent would make a good Sailormars, and seeing as he can control fire, and stuff . . . Lucius works, for Sailorvenus, because of his thunder, and other light magic! Well, if we _don't_ get attacks like the Sailorsenshi, then I wonder what we're going to do?! Perhaps we'll just use our regular weapons? I guess using a bow would be cool, but . . . did you know that Sailoruranus and I share the same affinity, which is wind? I just find that to be interesting, plus I think she has one of the coolest outfits, although I _still_ can't understand how they wear these shoes of theirs . . ."   
  
-----------------------------   
  
**End Notes**: Well, uh. _That_ was sure interesting to write. 


	3. Stage Two

**Title**: Points of Authority  
**Author**: Atarashii [chibikits(at)livejournal(dot)com]  
**Series**: Fire Emblem  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: Humor  
**Pairings**: KentxSain (implied)   
  
**Disclaimer**: Fire Emblem and all its associated characters do not, and never will, belong to me. The plot to this fic, however, does.   
  
**Author Notes**: Thanks for all the support thusfar regarding this fic, everyone! And yeah, there ARE shounen-ai/yaoi pairings in here, although truthfully the ones in which this fic pokes fun at are the ones in which more than likely could NOT be seen happening (in exclusion to RavenxWil, but, eh . . . IMHO, of course.) Hope all enjoy this part as much as the others!   
  
-----------------------------   
  
Points of Authority  
Stage Two   
  
-----------------------------   
  
It was chaos on Set 6, even moreso than usual.   
  
The author of one of the works currently in progress was attempting to cool down one enraged animal, sweatdropping all the while as she did so.   
  
The feline, sporting a pair of boots and a musketeer-esque hat was glaring up at the human, forepaws crossed against his chest, crimson-coloured fur bristled and same-coloured eyes burning with anger.   
  
"This is so . . ." Raven paused, "I cannot believe that you expect me to actually _do_ this. And as if _this_ isn't bad enough, I have to be with that . . . that . . ."   
  
"His name is Wil, Raven."   
  
"I _know_ what his damned name issss!" Trailing off with a low hiss, his eyes narrowed, "This is stupid. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_."   
  
Rolling her eyes, the author waved a hand in a dismissive manner, "You're up, Raven." She smiled sweetly, "Now, I suggest you _behave_ unless you'd rather remain as a cat for a _much_ longer time." The clipboard held underneath one arm was shifted to her hand, "And believe me, that _can_ be arranged."   
  
"I don't want to do this . . ."   
  
Innocent blink, "What? Would you rather I forgo this idea and go instead with the _lemon_?"   
  
If possible, the cat's eyes widened even further, and without another word he was gone, leaving a light trail of dust in his wake.   
  
Whistling, twirling the pencil within her hand, the author sidled over to where the animal'd gone, chuckling softly under her breath.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
"Matthew!" The shout, torn from the lord's throat echoed within the air as Hector dropped his axe, uncaring of the still alive enemy he'd left before as he rushed over to where the thief had fallen, "Matthew!"   
  
"I . . . " Trailing off, the caramel-haired man attempted to rise, holding a hand over his chest, wincing as blood seeped through his fingers, "L . . . Lord Hec . . . tor . . ."   
  
The taller of the two stopped, falling onto his knees besides the other's form. For a moment, he let his gaze linger upon his pained features, taking in pain-filled eyes. For the first time in his life, Hector felt his heart stop, and his breath catch in his throat.   
  
Despite the fact that he was struggling for breath, and his hair stuck damply to his forehead from sweat, Matthew looked absolutely, and positively, _gorgeous_.   
  
Shaking his head, he reached a hand out, fingers brushing against a paled face. He hesitated, before his mouth opened . . . and he broke into a fit of giggles.   
  
"_CUT_!" Furious, the author tore off her visor, throwing it to the ground as she shot daggers in the Ostian lord's direction, "Goddamnit. Hector, what the _fuck_ do you find so funny?! This is supposed to be an _angst_ fic, full of drama and tragedy! Not a fucking humor one!"   
  
His laughter stifled to a soft chuckle every now and then, Hector looked towards the female, before looking in Matthew's direction.   
  
This time, _both_ of them broke into fits of laughter, and with another curse, the self-proclaimed HectorxMatthew fangirl threw her hands up in the air, whirling about and storming off.   
  
-----------------------------   
  
Cheerfully whistling, Nils made his way back to the waiting room, a slight bounce to his step. Every now and then he would pause, playing a quick tune on his flute, before stopping and putting the wooden instrument away.   
  
If one were to come around then, and ask him as to why he was so _happy_, he probably would be unable to give them an answer.   
  
Needless to say, he had no clue as to why he felt like he did . . . Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the author of the scheduled fic hadn't made it onto the set in time, thus freeing him from the torture to come. Then again, for someone who was so _constantly_ being forced to act as someone he wasn't, it was a _big_ deal when a 'filming' session was cancelled.   
  
He paused, hand falling to where his flute hung, fingers curling about its slender length. Beginning to pull it free, he stopped at the sound of nearing footsteps, letting his hand fall back to his side.   
  
Blinking, he looked around, before spotting the newcomer heading towards him, "Ah, Lord Eliwood." Keeping the greeting short, he gave the redhead a small nod.   
  
"Nils . . . ?" Blinking, the Pheraen stole a glance around them, "Coming back from a filming?"   
  
The half-dragon broke into a vague smile, then, "It was cancelled." He paused, "Thankfully. I never did like _that_ one."   
  
Wincing slightly, remembering the times when he was featured in the very fic in which Nils was speaking of, Eliwood gave a small shake of his head, "I doubt anyone does."   
  
"Mm. Seems like _some_ people like it . . . otherwise, I would like to think that she would just give it up."   
  
"Don't we all?" Sighing, shaking his head yet again with a rueful smile, the lord gestured towards the door at the end of the hallway, "I'm guessing you were heading back to get some downtime?"   
  
"Mm." Tilting his head, crimson eyes studied the other curiously, "So dare I ask where you were, Lord Eliwood?"   
  
Smile fading, replaced by a small frown, the taller of the two shifted his gaze away, "Someplace where I would rather _not_ be." Eyes narrowed dangerously, and his voice lowered, shifting into a low growl, "Do they _really_ believe that I enjoy killing my _beloved_ . . . my _wife_ . . . Ninian . . . over, and over again?! I don't give a damn if Ninian is part dragon, nor would I care if she were anything else! She is my _love_, and everytime I have to kill her, I cannot help but feel guilt." Taking in a deep breath, Eliwood struggled to calm down, "I realise it's not real, but to me, it is. I hate it."   
  
"Ah, Lord Eliwood . . ." Casting him a sympathethic smile, Nils reached out, hesitatingly patting the other on the arm, "We _all_ hate how some of these ideas in which these so-called authors come up with, "But, sadly, there isn't much in which we can do to stop it . . ." He sighed, "Thus, we're stuck dealing."   
  
". . . Right. I just hope, that for once, there will be a fic created in which I can _be_ with my beloved, and we can for once coexist in some author's fantasy without being pulled apart, or having to destroy the other."   
  
"Heh." Soft, bitter laugh at that, repeating the three words in which seemed to be an ongoing phrase between the entire cast, "Don't we all, Lord Eliwood . . . don't we all . . ."   
  
-----------------------------   
  
"Oh, be still my heart! What beauty are you who so steals my breath away like this? Such radiance, such vitality!"   
  
". . . Uh, Sain? Do you _have_ to continue saying that, over and over again?" Frowning, Kent looked over at where his partner was kneeling before the wall on the opposite side, practicing his lines, "Or at least learn some new material."   
  
Scoffing lightly in reply, and standing, Sain shook his head, "Apologies, Kent." He looked over to the other, "I wish I could, but for one reason or another, those lines seem to be the most popular as of late." He made a small face, "Oh, how I hate them." Stretching out his arms above his head, the green-armored knight made his way over to where the other sat, taking a seat on the chair beside him, "So, what is that you're doing?"   
  
"Eh." Eyes briefly flickering over to rest upon Sain's face, Kent shrugged, "Nothing, really. Somewhat reading over my lines for this new project one of the authors are working on."   
  
". . . What type?"   
  
"Guess."   
  
". . . You know I despise guessing games, Ken-ken."   
  
"Don't call me that."   
  
"But, _Ken-ken_, it suits you so well! Besides, it's a nickname! Yours!" Playful smirk, "Like it?"   
  
Slight roll of his eyes, "For a second there, it was as if I was talking to Wil."   
  
"Hm."   
  
". . . It's another of those yaoi fics."   
  
"Oh. With who?"   
  
". . . Guess."   
  
". . . _Ken-ken_!"   
  
Quirking an eyebrow, and glancing up, Kent tossed his companion a slightly amused smile, before leaning over. Softly, breath brushing against Sain's ear, he whispered in a low tone, "You."   
  
-----------------------------   
  
**End Notes**: I'm evil. Oh, yes I am. Woo, now _that_ was one fun chapter to write. 


End file.
